His One And Only Secret
by Vicarious Jade
Summary: Dean hides his secret well, doesn't he? Sam may not think so. First fanfic. Dean/OC Rated M to be safe. Warning: Non-linear.
1. His one and only secret

He'd say she tastes like heaven if he believed in it

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Author's Note: Don't know where this is going, if anywhere. First Supernatural Fanfic.

**His one and only secret**

He'd say she tastes like heaven if he believed in it. Yet her touch sets him on fire. He doesn't care to remember how it started, when and where are lost to him. He knows he's not supposed to feel like this. Not for her. His one and only secret.

Her skin is smooth under his calloused hands, pale and cool, awash with moonlight. He doesn't have to see her, every inch is burned into his memory, but that doesn't stop him from watching her move beneath him. Her dark eyes meet his, the light of the moon reflecting briefly in hers before she brings her lips to his. Her mouth is warm and he looses himself in her, allows himself for the shortest of moments, to feel, and not think.

He knows he can never tell his brother about his secret, just as he could never and did never tell his father. He doesn't want to think about how they would react, how they would look at him differently, disappointed. He doesn't want to think about it but he does. He always does. He wants to be strong, unmoving, impassive; the perfect hunter for his father, for his family. Deep down he knows he'll never be that person, but the façade continues, as he knows it will. It has too, for the sake of what's left of his family. For his brother.

She is watching him, aware of the battle being waged behind her lover's eyes. In his heart and in his soul. Her hands caress his skin, while she waits for him to return to her. She belongs to him, as they are both very much aware, but she wonders how much of him belongs to her. He sees her now, kisses her and smiles a real smile; an occasion that he knows is becoming more and more rare. He wants to tell her things, things he's sure she wants to hear, but the barriers seem to numerous. Does she know about his deal? His death sentence? He wants to believe she doesn't but he's seen the subtle changes tonight, and he knows that she knows. He wishes he could stay with her forever, how does he tell her that? He's not sure how.

She knows about the deal he made to save his brother, and that he has exactly eighteen days to live. She doesn't want to think about that, about losing him. His embrace tightens and she can see the things he can not say reflecting in his green eyes. Despair, sorrow, longing, and for her, adoration.

He looks at the woman beneath him, quiet and strong, and wonders what life would have been like with her in it. Sometimes he thinks that his brother would understand, or at least accept his lover. He wonders if Bobby knows. After all, had it not been for Bobby, he never would have seen her, not for what she truly is.

Her skin is flushed, warming to his touch, an effect he loves. He thrusts harder and she clings to him, her legs wrapped around his waist. The small growl she lets out makes him quiver. His body is slick with sweat, the room thick with the scent of their sex. He shakes when he feels the sharpness of her canines on his skin, on his neck, where his pulse is closest to the surface. She nips, quickly soothing the skin with her tongue. His pace picks up and she knows he's close. He is the only one who has ever really known her, who will ever really know her. She doesn't want to lose him, she can't, and her sanity can't afford it.

When he finally gets his release she's right there with him, breath ragged and heart pounding. He lies beside her, sated and exhausted. She curls up next to him, laying her head on his chest above his heart. She likes to listen to the steady beat; she finds it comforting. She loves their brief times together; for once she doesn't have to be the strong one, safe in her lovers embrace. How often does she long for a normal life, where they could be together?

He listens to her breathing, calmed by her presence, knowing this is the last time he'll be with her. So desperately he wants to hold her and never let go, stay with her forever and eternity. Maybe it's this melancholy night, or the nearness of his death, but the sudden urge to tell her things, to tell her everything, is unbearable. He holds her closer, whispering her name. She's up, resting on her elbow, looking into his eyes, kissing his lips. She can feel his turmoil reverberating through his body.

"_I don't want to leave you"_ he whispers, _"I never want to leave you."_

"_I know, and I don't want you to go." _her voice is hushed.

"_I wish things were different….I wish I had more time."_ His eyes are raw with emotion, he has more to say, she can see it in his face. He takes her hand in his, holding it to his cheek, kissing her wrist. She promised herself she wouldn't cry but a single tear escapes regardless. When she looks back into his eyes, she can see his tears, threatening to overcome his resolve.

"_I love you; I have for a long time. I'm not going to stop."_ His voice is barely a whisper and her heart breaks to hear the words she's longed for.

"_I love you, Dean Winchester. I have for a long time and I'm not going to stop."_ He smiles at her words, a vow he never thought he'd hear. He holds her close, knowing he'll have to go, but for this moment he belongs to her and her to him. His one and only secret.

Sam watches as his brother says goodbye to the woman at the motel door. He knows he shouldn't have followed him but can't help himself. He wonders how long it's been this girl, how long has his brother been in love? He hides in the shadows of the trees, watching them exchange goodbyes, sees his brother wipe away tears on her ashen skin.

His brother gets in the Impala, backs away from the motel and drives to the road. Sam can see the sheen of tears on his brother's face and is shocked. A moment later his brother is gone and the woman is walking across the empty parking lot. As she nears his hiding space, Sam can see just how pale she is, and when she looks in his direction and meets his eyes, he sees the light reflected unnaturally in her dark eyes. She stops a few feet away from him, acknowledging his presence with a silent stare.

"_If you don't hurry, he'll get back before you do."_ Her voice is quiet and soft, not like he imagined. He can see her sharp canines when she talks, not like anything they've come across before. He understands now why his brother never mentioned her before, why he hid her. Sam stares a moment longer before rushing to get back to the motel where his brother left him asleep hours ago.

Sam never mentioned what he saw that night eighteen days ago. His brother had returned and gone straight to bed. And now they wait at the Crossroads, Dean's year is up and he's holding up his end of the bargain. Sam watches as Dean scans the darkness around them; maybe he's looking for the demon that has come to claim his soul. Maybe he's looking for her.

Dean wonders if she is near, did she leave that night. He wishes he could see her one last time but he wants to be strong for this. Wants to be the perfect hunter and brother and go willing into hell to save his family, just like his father before him. His disguise intact, he waits for his death. Bobby stands at his side, a stone, offering his silent support.

A noise to his left brings him out of his reverie. He turns, expecting the demon, surprised to see his lover standing before him. She takes a hesitant step towards him, wondering if she should be here or not. Sam watches, noticing the recognition pass over Bobby's face. He doesn't understand but remains quiet for his brother's sake.

Dean walks to her, taking her in his arms, glad to see her one last time. She kisses him gently, savouring his taste, committing it to memory. She stands at his side, strong only for him, as she dies inside, and they wait for the demon that holds his soul.


	2. One Strike Past Midnight

Author's Note: Not sure if this should've been a one-shot, but I'll keep going so long as the ideas are there. Sorry if it seems a little out of order, I just write the ideas as they come to me. Hopefully it all makes sense in the long run.

**One Strike Past Midnight**

_**March 12**__**th**__**, 1992, Singer Salvage Yard, Sioux County**_

The driving rain makes visibility virtually nil in the darkness of midnight. Thunder shakes the house, rattling dishes while lightening flashes illuminate the old house. Bobby Singer stands steadfast just inside the door way of one of the upstairs bedrooms, a scowl set on his gentle features. One hand is clenched into a fist and the other holds his trusty shotgun, loaded with rock salt. He glares at the younger man approaching on the stairs, unease settling in his gut. The man wraps a torn piece of his own t-shirt around his hand, staunching the flow of blood from the skin between his thumb and index finger. He looks at Bobby, wondering where it all went wrong.

Behind Bobby, in the furthest corner of the bedroom, lightening flashes to reveal a small girl no older than seven or eight, shaking in fear. She huddles close to the ground, her face soaked with sweat. She wears a grey t-shirt, many sizes too big on her small frame, the front of which is stained dark with blood. She keeps her eyes on the man over Bobby's shoulder; she can still taste his blood mingling with her own from where her lip had split. Their heartbeats ring wildly in her ears as she tries desperately to tune them out. Too much sensory input confuses her, the instinct to flee in overpowering. She is somewhat calmed by the older man's presence.

The man stops at the top of the stairs, directly in front of Bobby. He's tired and anxious at the same time; the girl has put him on edge. He looks at the child, his blood staining her lips and chin, terror evident in her dark eyes. He had found her downstairs in the kitchen, a glass of water in her hands. Maybe she sensed his intentions; the glass was shattering on the tile floor when he realized she was running. Her panic, coupled with the alien territory had made her easy to catch. He had wrapped his hand around her neck and hauled her into the living room, heavy footsteps thudding down the stairs in response to the commotion. He was readying the silver stake when she twisted in his grasp, biting deep into the flesh of his hand. His response to the pain had been to backhand the child, sending her sprawling across the floor. Bobby had entered the room as the child scrambled up the stairs. He wasted no time in warning the other man, grabbing his gun and heading up the stairs after the girl.

The thunder echoes again, bringing each man closer to the reality of the situation, adrenaline slows. The older man is unwavering in his protection, the younger man realizes this.

"_Get out of the way Bobby, you should know better than anyone that that thing needs to die."_ The man's voice is firm, almost desperate for the other man to see reason.

"_You aren't going to kill a kid, I won't let you."_ Bobby hopes his words aren't as useless as they feel.

"_That is no kid. I am not going to tell you again, get outta my way."_

Bobby brings the shotgun up, hoping he'll only have to use it as a warning on the other man. The girl growls when John Winchester takes another step in her direction. He hesitates, watching the lightening mirror in her eyes. Eyes that scream supernatural…evil, at least to him they do. Bobby Singer seems to have forgotten this.

"_Bobby, please, she ain't human. She's dangerous."_ John pleads with his friend.

"_Yeah? Well right now she's terrified. She wasn't hurting anybody, this ain't none of your concern."_ He can see that the eldest Winchester isn't going to back down anytime soon.

The girl braces herself when she hears the younger man's heart beat faster. She knows he's not going to leave until she's dead. She understands she's not normal, not like the others. She knows both men hunt things like her.

"_She ain't like the others, John, you know that. She's nearly the same age as Sam for Christ's sake!"_

"_You leave my children out of this!"_ John Winchester roars. Bobby sees his opportunity and rushes the younger man, using his shotgun to pin his friend to the wall.

"_Run kid!"_ She's halfway down the stairs as soon as Bobby's done uttering the words. She blocks out the sounds of struggle behind her, throws the front door open and disappears into the rain-drenched night. As she runs through the trees, away from the house, she hopes the man she left behind, the only person to ever show her kindness, will be alright to deal with an angry John Winchester.


	3. Nighttime Companions

Dislcaimer: I used Google Maps for the locations but as far as I know, I made up Mill's Tavern.

**Night-time Companions**

Dean grips the steering wheel a little harder than necessary, trying not to strangle his brother. Their argument had taken up the better part of the last hour and he wasn't sure he could remember what the hell it was about. He doesn't have to look over to know that his brother is sulking, glaring out the window of the Impala into the cold night beyond. He grits his teeth and remembers that he promised himself he'd go easy on his younger brother. Last week Sam had killed the only woman he had loved after Jessica; Madison. His head hurts just thinking about how unclear their job has become. First it was Lenore and her nest of human-sparing vampires and then Sam's werewolf lover. Dean missed the black and white. Good and evil. He needs a drink.

The silence from the driver's seat is not lost on Sam. He knows his brother is trying desperately to give him space. The pain is not so much of a sharp jab to the heart as it is a constant ache. It's just like when he lost Jessica, except with Jess he didn't pull the trigger. He frowns when the voice inside his head reminds him that he _was_ the trigger. He doesn't want to feel sorry for himself, he knows this will get him no where, but the thought of himself cursed slips through regardless. Everyone around him, everyone he loves, they all die. Because of him. Because of what he is and what he's supposed to become. Another idea he doesn't want to entertain.

Dean wants to say something, anything, to break the silence, to comfort his brother but he knows it's useless. Instead he drives, keeping an eye out for a bar or motel, preferably both. He remembers when his father died for him; he knows what his brother is going through. He also knows that they have very different ways of dealing with loss. He slows when he sees the neon bar sign, sees the irritated look on his brother's face and drives on. They'll find a motel first and settle in.

It doesn't take long, ten minutes later they arrive at a dark motel just off the main drag. Dean takes care of the arrangements while Sam waits at the car. After bringing the bags in, the oldest Winchester disappears into the bathroom, leaving Sam and his laptop at the small table in the corner. When he hears the shower start, Sam sighs, holding his head in his hands. He won't admit it out loud for fear of encouraging his brother's reckless behaviour, but tonight he wants his brother to go somewhere, anywhere, and leave him alone. He needs to think.

Fifteen minutes later Dean's exiting the bathroom, shrugging his leather jacket over his shoulders.

"_Don't wait up Sammy."_ He smirks as he crosses the room.

"_It's Sam. And I won't."_ Sam can barely contain his relief as his brother leaves the room.

--

Dean pulls the collar of his jacket up a little higher as he makes his way to the car. The cold is bitter, sinking readily down to his bones. He hesitates once he's in the car, not wanting to leave his brother alone at a time like this. He didn't miss the look of relief that crossed Sam's face when he realized Dean was leaving. Not that he can blame him; he knows what it's like to lose someone you love. He knows Sam needs time alone right now but that doesn't stop the guilt he feels when his thoughts drift back to _her_. Sam had to kill his lover to save her, Dean is grateful he will never have to do the same. His heart broke for his brother when he heard the gunshot ending Madison's life. Although he can never confess this to Sam, he also knows what it's like to love someone who's not quite human.

He starts the car and pulls away from the motel. He debates on going back to the bar they passed on the way here but isn't sure it's what he wants. He can't deceive himself; he knows exactly what he wants. Dean wants to call her, to hear her voice, find out where she is. He wants to see her and hold her, to quiet the unease he's felt since they left Madison's apartment. He's wanted to contact her since then but it was never the right time. His decision is made when he pulls the Impala into a vacant parking lot across from the bar, pulls out his cell phone and dials her number.

--

The vibration against her hip momentarily distracts her from the conversation with the woman across the table. She pulls her phone out, glances at the caller ID and apologizes to her hostess for the interruption.

"_Dean?"_

He releases a breath he didn't know he had been holding at the sound of her voice.

"_Hey."_ His voice is tired.

"_What's going on?"_ She keeps her inquiry neutral; she heard the exhaustion and apprehension in his voice.

"_Same old. I, uh, I just wanted to talk to you. If you're not busy."_ He quickly adds, hoping he doesn't sound too pathetic.

"_No, I was just having coffee with an old friend. Dean, is something wrong?"_ She frowns slightly. The woman across from her raises an eyebrow when she mentions his name.

"_No, not really. It's just been kind of a rough week."_ He may as well be honest with her; she can read him better than most anyway.

"_Where are you?"_ He adds. She can sense something in his voice, not like his usual self, something despondent.

"_Near Riverside, in Oregon, you?"_

"_Emmett, Idaho."_

She looks as her friend, sees the concern in her eyes.

"_I can be there in two or three hours if you want some company."_ She says quietly, knowing he needs to see her.

"_I…I, uh…that'd be cool."_ He smiles to himself, knowing she can see right through him.

"_Where are you going to be?"_

Dean leans forward to read the name of the bar through the windshield.

"_Mill's Tavern, Highway 52."_

"_Ok, see you soon."_ She has a small smile on her face when she hangs up.

"_Dean Winchester?"_ Lenore asks, intrigued by her friends choice in company.

"_It's…complicated. Thanks for the coffee."_

--

Dean's leaning against the driver's side door of the car two and a half hours later when the black Kawasaki pulls into the lot and parks next to him. He grins as he watches her get off the bike and step in front of him.

"_Hey."_ She says quietly, looking up at him.

"_Hey. Thanks for coming. Sorry to drag you all the way out here."_ He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

She shrugs, _"It was a nice ride over. Thought you'd be inside by now."_

"_Nah."_ He looks around briefly, suddenly nervous like a kid on a first date, takes her hand in his and leads her across the street to the bar.

--

Two hours later and Dean doesn't feel the cold anymore, instead, he feels the soothing heat of their bodies pressed together. They had spent over an hour at the bar, Dean explaining their recent werewolf experience and the horrific actions his brother had to take, before finding somewhere more private. She sits in his lap, rocking back and forth while his mouth devours her. Her hands caress his brood shoulders while his lips find their way down her neck. He lays back and lets her take over, watching waves of pleasure spread over her face, urging her towards her climax. He loves her. He's done arguing with himself over why he can't. He doesn't care that she's not fully human, he has her here and now and that's all that matters. He waits for her to come down from her orgasm before flipping her onto her back. When he enters her, she wraps her lags around him, kisses him softly and holds her close. She wants him to know how much he means to her, how much she cares for him. His green eyes bore into hers, his heart exposed for her to see and she knows that he knows.

--

The next morning Sam doesn't know how wrong he is when he figures some random girl at the bar is the reason his brother was out all night and he gets to drive the Impala while Dean sleeps it off.

--

Author's Note: She does have a name, I was just having trouble picking one! Hope you're enjoying it so far and thanks for the kind reviews.


	4. A HateStained World

**A Hate-Stained World**

The hunter curses when the fresh blood splatters over his leather boots, glistening in the soft light of the dawn. Bobby Singer steps around the now headless vampire corpse and ventures deeper into the nest, machete in one hand, shotgun in the other. His sources put the number of vampires camped out in the abandoned paper mill at four, and with the one he just killed, and the two he took down outside there should only be one more for him to worry about. He hasn't seen any victims yet, something that unsettles him; he wonders what exactly these vampires are up to. He wonders if it's the reason the psychic was so adamant that he come out here in the first place.

He ducks into an open door when he hears a commotion ahead. Peering around the door frame, he sees the last vampire head downstairs to the basement. He waits half a minute, wanting to put some distance between them. He approaches the stairs, silently thanking his lucky stars that the stairs are concrete and not wood. The vampire must have caught his scent by now and he doesn't need creaking stairs to announce his presence. At the bottom is a hallway with rooms running down the right side. Taking a deep breath, he steels himself and enters the first room, shotgun raised. Empty. He quickly searches the rest, all just as empty as the first, until he reaches the last one.

Bobby has his back pressed against the wall just outside the last door when the voice reaches him.

"…_brought this upon yourself…what happens when…humans…damned half-breed…"_ The bits of conversation that reach him tell him that it's the man he followed down here. Either he was talking to himself or Bobby may have a bigger problem than he first anticipated. _You only live once, old man_, he tells himself before stepping into the room. The part of the room he can see is empty, but at the back it continues to the right, behind the other rooms he's searched.

The vampire is the first thing he sees when he rounds the corner, firing off a shot laced with Dead Man's blood. The force of the shotgun knocks the vampire off his feet and into the wall and Bobby wastes no time raising the machete. The man doesn't try to fight back, knowing this is the end of the line.

"_She's almost more trouble than she's worth."_ Bobby has no idea what he's talking about but doesn't allow himself to look around, thinking it may be a last-ditch effort to divert his attention. The vampire slides to the ground as the blood poisoning sets in and Bobby risks a glance further into the room and freezes. Huddled in the corner is a small child.

She remains quiet and motionless when the man rounds the corner and fires the shotgun. He's a hunter; his use of the Dead Man's blood is her proof. She knows she should be running but her body won't obey. Pain, more than fear, keeps her paralyzed when he turns his attention to her. Her body is tired and aching and she can't remember how long she's been here, maybe he is her saviour; even if he kills her.

For a minute he doesn't understand what's going on. A child as a victim makes no sense; more blood can be gained from an adult. And children are more likely to be missed. Bobby takes a step towards her and she cowers further; her small face a mask of pain and terror. The white nightgown she wears is caked with dirt and he frowns when he realizes the darker stains are blood, illuminated by the flickering light above. Another step closer and he can see the deep cuts, bruises and bite wounds that cover the child's exposed skin.

"_Her blood…it's like a drug to us."_ The vampire gasps as the poisoning spreads. The child's eyes dart towards the speaker and then back to Bobby, mirroring the light from above and he takes a step back. He looks back at the man on the floor who is still staring at the frightened girl.

"_You're feeding on your own kind?!"_ He asks, still not sure what to make of all of this. He looks back towards the girl; she's watching him quietly, her tears smearing the dirt and blood across her cheeks.

"_Not exactly old man."_

"_Well, she's a vampire, ain't she?"_

"_You... you really…don't know?"_ The vampire smirks, _"Thought you came for her. Figure it out yourself."_ He laughing and Bobby's had enough. He raises the machete and swings, killing the vampire, and turns towards the girl. She's shaking, knees pulled up to her chest, wondering if she's next. When he sees just how scared the girl is, his heart breaks. How long has she been here, tortured by other vampires? He sighs and runs a hand through his beard. He's not exactly sure but he can't leave her here.

_I ain't gonna hurt you kid. What's your name?"_ she looks down at his feet, having no answer to give him.

"_Look, I don't wanna leave you here. I don't know what you are but you can come with me so long as you don't go trying anything."_ He has no idea what to do with her, but he knows he can't kill a child. He watched her look around, wondering who she is and how she got here.

She doesn't know what to make of the hunter. She had heard the other vampires talking about them, how they lived for nothing other than to kill things that aren't human. She lets her eyes wander around the room, debating his offer. He could kill her, or he might be true to his word and take her away from this. Either way, she decides, she's not trapped here anymore. She slowly gets to her feet and turns to face him.

--

"_My name's Bobby."_ Ten minuets later and they're in the truck, headed for home and he has no idea what to say to her. Normally he would've cleaned up after a hunt, salting and burning the bodies to cover his tracks, but he can't seem to get far enough from the nest. She's in the passenger seat, watching the world outside pass by.

"_There's a jacket in the back if the sun's hurting you."_

"_It doesn't burn me."_ When he looks at her, she's facing him, her dark eyes showing her honesty, _"It just makes me tired."_ She turns back to the window.

"_What about the thirst?"_ The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them.

"_It doesn't usually bother me."_

"_You mean, you don't need human blood?"_

"_Only if I'm hurt bad."_ He's not sure he wants to know how she discovered that one. This child is a contradiction to everything he knows about vampires. He has a million questions for her but the rest of the trip to his house is made in silence.

--

"_Hello?"_

"_Do you wanna explain to me exactly how you're 'helping to push things along in the right direction'?!"_ Bobby practically growls into the receiver. He peers around the corner; the girl is standing on a chair at the kitchen sink washing her face, right where he left her.

"_I take it you found the girl."_ Missouri's voice is as sweet as always.

"_Yeah I found the girl! Now what do I do with her?"_

"_You keep her safe is what. She's not like the others."_

"_I kinda figured."_ He can't help but roll his eyes.

"_I don't want your attitude Robert Singer; I want your word that you'll protect that child."_

"_If she's as important as you think she is then I guess I got no choice."_

"_Good, I'll be there as soon as I can."_

"_Great."_ The word comes out as more of a growl when he hangs up the phone, his frustration reaching all new levels.

When he walks back into the kitchen the girls is still at the sink, wringing the cloth out. She's managed to clean her face and arms and Bobby notices the bruises are already beginning to fade.

"_Are you hungry?"_

"_A little."_

"_Peanut butter and jelly ok?"_ When she nods he holds out the clothes he found upstairs, an old sleep set of Deans, _"There's a bathroom upstairs. Why don't you put on some clean clothes and I'll make some sandwiches."_ She takes the clothes from him and starts for the stairs, pausing when she gets to the doorway. _"Thank you."_ She offers him a small smile which he returns before she disappears up the stairs.

--

He gets a glimpse of her sharp, slightly elongated canine teeth when she bites into her sandwich. He thinks the lateral incisors might be sharper than those of a human as well, and they don't appear to be retractable, at least not for her. She's sitting on the chair across from him, her eyes inspecting the kitchen, briefly examining the various books and talismans strewn about.

"_You never told me your name."_ his voice halts her scrutiny, bringing her eyes back to his.

"_I don't have one. Not that I can remember."_

"_How long have you been a vampire?"_

"_Forever."_

"_You mean you were born one?"_

"_I think so; I don't know who my parents are."_

He frowns at the thought of a child never knowing its parents and his thoughts involuntarily slip to his late wife and unborn child. He tries not to let it show when his heart starts to ache for the family he never had.

"_Well, I think you need a name, don't you?"_

She looks up at him and for a moment he thinks he sees sympathy in the young girl's eyes. She remains silent, watching him, waiting for him to continue.

"_Always liked Aidan myself. I think it's a boy's name but…"_

"_I like it too."_ She doesn't wait for him to finish, she can sense the weight of the name he's offered and she can feel the sorrow radiating from him.

"_Well, Aidan it is then. It's a pleasure to meet you."_ He holds his hand out to her.

"_It's nice to meet you too, Bobby."_ She smiles genuinely when she shakes his hand.

--

Author's Note: Ok, so I took a few creative liberties with this one…hope you like it so far.


	5. The Decay of Meaning

**The Decay of Meaning**

All he wants is a drink.

He doesn't want to think about how his father is probably in hell because of him, or their recent visit to their mother's grave, he just wants to leave Sam at the motel and find the nearest bar. Part of him wishes he hadn't pulled the car over, hadn't revealed his inner turmoil to his brother. It hadn't solved anything, not that he ever expected it to, he had just hoped that maybe everything wouldn't have to hurt so much. That, and although he'd never admit it, he felt bad for pushing his brother away. But he was scared, and he deals with everything the only way he knows how. Sometimes he wishes he could talk to Bobby, he knows Bobby would listen but he's never been able to work up the nerve to confide in the older man. Confiding in Sam had been one of the hardest things he's ever done, and he's been regretting it ever since.

Her back faces the door when Dean enters the bar. She's sizing up her opponent's game at the pool table they're playing on when the scent hits her. She gets a flashback of a rainy night all those years ago and knows it was a Winchester that came through the door. The scent is different than it was then, she knows it's not John, but it is someone closely related. The man across the table curses when he misses his shot and she moves around to the opposite side to take her shot. Through the loud music and rowdy conversations she hears the gruff voice, laced with fatigue and grief that only she can hear, ordering a beer. Carefully keeping her expression neutral she leans over, lining up her cue, and sinks her second last ball. She allows herself a glance up towards the man who has her attention and meets his eyes. There is no recognition in them, only interest, which slightly calms her nerves. A second later, when he doesn't look away, she flicks her gaze back to her opponent and rounds the table again to make her next shot.

She's one of the first things Dean notices when he enters the bar, black pants, a black leather jacket and straight auburn hair halfway down her back. She's at one of the pool tables, facing away from him, playing against one of the many bikers in the bar. Dean walks over to the bartender, sits down and orders a beer. Drink in hand; he turns to face the pool tables, watching the woman line up her shot. Her hair hangs in layers over her face and when she sinks the ball, she looks up at him with dark eyes. She looks to be no older than Sam and he smiles, mostly to himself, she's beautiful and her body is just the thing to take his mind off of the events of the past few weeks. He's more intrigued than disappointed when, without so much as a smile or appreciating look, she turns her attention back to her game.

She wonders if he'll leave, or at least set his sights on one of the other girls in the bar. She'd rather avoid a confrontation if she can, she knows she should be leaving but there is a part of her that is interested in the man watching her. She lines up her next shot, sinking the ball effortlessly into the corner pocket and turns her attention to the eight ball. The man across form her curses again when she wins, groaning before tossing her a couple of dirty twenties. She slips the money into her pocket and decides the best thing for her to do is leave when she senses the Winchester behind her. She turns around to face him, quickly giving him a once-over, keeping a slightly bored expression on her face. He's got half a foot on her, broad-shouldered with captivating green eyes. She can see some of his father in his features, instinctively aware that this is John Winchester's son and can't help the pleasant feelings his attention is giving her. For what seems like the thousandth time in her life, she finds herself wishing she were human, normal and able to play along with his little seduction game.

_"How 'bout a game?" _He asks, close enough now to get a good look. Her brown eyes are almost black in the light of the bar, fair-skinned with a hint of freckles. She shrugs in response, knowing she should leave before this gets out of hand, but she's curious.

"_You break?" _he asks, trying to strike up a conversation with her. Out of the corner of his eye he sees an attractive brunette watching him, an approving look on her face.

"_Doesn't matter."_ Her voice is as neutral as her expression and Dean wonders if he should take the easy route with the brunette.

"_Ok, I'll break."_

"_Wager?"_ Her dark eyes bore into his and he wonders who this girl is. As much as he wants an easy fling tonight, he can't deny the attraction he feels for this girl.

"_Doesn't matter."_ He smirks, throwing her answer back. Her lips curl up into a smirk to match his own and she goes to stand at the opposite end of the table.

"_What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"_

"_Not waiting for a guy like you."_ Her tone is sharp but she's smiling. He still has no idea what to make of her, something about her is enthralling but he doesn't see her as a one-night-stand kind of girl. When he leans over to break, he shoots the brunette a charming smile, wanting to keep his options open.

"_Name's Dean…Singer."_ He says the first thing that comes to mind, having talked with the older man two days ago, and mentally scolds himself for being so unproductive with the alias.

"_Really?"_ He turns his attention back to the girl at the table, sees the calculating look on her face as she continues, _"I didn't think Bobby had any kids."_ She couldn't help herself, the curiosity getting the best of her. Besides, she saw the looks he had exchanged with the other girl. She smiles when his smile fades, his attention solely on her. She can't explain the warm feeling she gets, why she wants him focused on her. She knows she's playing with fire.

"_You know Bobby?"_

"_He saved my ass a long time ago."_

"_You a hunter?"_ He keeps his voice low, not wanting to be heard by anyone else.

"_Not exactly."_ She tilts her head, letting the light reflect briefly. He stiffens, his guard up, and takes a step away from the table. His eyes quickly scan the bar, looking for any indication of other vampires.

"_I'm alone."_ Her features soften. He clenches his jaw and looks back to the vampire, his eyes darkening with his unease. His thoughts are everywhere as he tries to make sense of what she's told him. A vampire, alone, Bobby saved her.

"_What did he save you from?"_ Even though he knows that a few vampires are not evil, he doesn't see Bobby as the type of hunter to make that distinction.

"_Other vampires. And a hunter. I was very young."_ She doesn't mention his father, figuring he's freaked out enough. She expects him to run, maybe return later with reinforcements and try to kill her. She instantly regrets exposing herself to him. Her gaze never leaves his as he takes in the new information. He's about to walk away when for the briefest second, he sees her mask of indifference slip, exposing the vulnerability underneath. He sees the same hurt and loneliness he's felt for most for his life and wonders why Bobby would save her, what makes her different.

"_Why don't we take this outside?"_ It's her turn to be alarmed; she hadn't expected him to try anything on his own and hopes she won't have to hurt him to get out of this. She puts the pool cue on the table and backs away, towards the door. He curses himself when he sees he fear in her eyes, he hadn't meant to come across as threatening. He moves towards her, _"Wait, I just meant to talk."_ She doesn't continue her retreat when he walks towards her.

"_I'm guessing that if Bobby didn't kill you, then you're not one of the bad guys."_ He stops in front of her, far enough away that she still has an exit, and waits for her to decide if she's going to trust him. When she nods, he leads her outside.

"_My name __**is**__ Dean. Dean Winchester."_ He hopes the truth he's offered will put her more at ease as he watched her from the corner of his eye. They're walking through a nearby park, looking every bit like a young couple to any curious passer-bys. He's no longer upset by her presence, if anything; he's enjoying her company more than he probably should. He feels at ease with her, he doesn't have to pretend, like he does with his family, and she hasn't judged him.

"_Aidan."_ She offers the name as a truce.

"_Aidan,"_ he repeats, _"and you're a vampire."_

"_And you're a hunter."_ She turns her face to his when she speaks to him, a small smile playing on her lips.

"_I didn't mean anything by it, just making an observation. So…you from around here?"_

"_Here and there. I guess I'm kinda like you in that aspect."_

"_Yeah, the glorious life of a hunter."_ His eyebrows raise and he shrugs. She gives him a shy sideways glance and a genuine smile, _"A hunter who happens to be taking a late-night stroll with a human-vampire hybrid."_

"_How'd that happen? I doubt it was the normal birds-and-the-bees thing."_

"_Actually, I have no idea."_ She looks up at him, sincerity on her features. He stands facing her, his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and realizes what he's feeling is sympathy; she's more like him than he could've imagined. He watches as the light breeze blows a few strands of her hair across her face, her eyes not leaving his.

"_Your life sounds about as normal as mine. Tell you one thing though; nothing is black and white anymore. I guess maybe it hasn't been for a while and I'm just noticing it now…who knows."_

--

Dean's not sure how they got here; they had walked together for more than an hour, each patiently answering the questions of the other. Eventually their conversation had turned to family and he had confessed more to her than he had to anyone in his entire life. He talked about his family, his job, his losses and she listened attentively, many things familiar even though she had never had a family of her own. Maybe he found it easier to talk to her because she was a stranger, someone on the outside of his messy life, someone who didn't judge, someone with no expectations.

Now his hands a pulling her closer as his mouth frantically tries to dominate hers. She tastes sweet and warm and he lets himself forget everything for a moment. Everything except what she is, the small voice at the back of his mind keeps reminding him that the girl in his arms is not human. He ignores it and pushes her against the wall, making her gasp when he grinds his hips into hers. She's sure she shouldn't be enjoying the feel of the hunter's string embrace but the way he makes her feel is something she's never had before. All of her mental and emotional barriers have been broken by this man and his touch in the space of a single evening and she wants more, wants to feel the things she has never allowed herself to feel. Her hands are against his chest while his are on her hip and neck, pulling her, trying to get closer. He sucks on her bottom lip before letting his mouth trail down her neck. He smiles at the whimpers he's eliciting from her and his mouth is on hers once again.

"_Thought you weren't waiting for a guy like me."_ He whispers against her mouth and feels her body go rigid in his arms. He pulls away enough to look into her eyes and sees the sobering effect his words have had, confusion and fear evident. She gently pushes him away, trying to clear her thoughts. She's suddenly embarrassed by her actions, that she was so desperate, so affected by him, and mentally scolds herself for letting her guard down.

"_I should go."_ Her voice is quiet and she's looking at the ground in shame that he doesn't understand. She wonders if she would've been little more than a one-night-stand for the man in front of her. She's angry, mostly at herself; past experience has proven that she can never have a relationship, not with humans or vampires.

"_Wait."_ His hand is grasping hers, keeping her from walking away.

"_I'm not human Dean."_ A fact that she is painfully aware of, but she hopes that by reminding him, he'll let her go.

"_I'm a hunter."_ His face is open for her to read when she looks up, his insecurities visible, his youth more pronounced by his honesty. She frowns but doesn't pull away from him.

"_Can I see you again?"_ She is surprised by his request but can see no smirk or laughter across his features. Regardless, she won't allow herself to hope for things she can not have; when they exchange phone numbers she doesn't expect to hear form Dean Winchester again.

--

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long for the update, I am working on it, I promise. Let me know what you think and thanks again for the reviews.


	6. Stubborn Is As Stubborn Does

AN: As always, thanks for all your reviews, your feedback is awesome! I am sorry it took so freakin long but I am working on it and possibly more stories. Still don't own anything.

**Stubborn Is As Stubborn Does**

If looks could kill today, Dean Winchester would be a dead man. And it's only noon. He stands up straight, wipes the sweat from his face and looks around, relieved that no one's spotted them yet. More sweat drips into his eyes and he curses, almost willing to give up and go back to the air-conditioned motel. Almost. A dull ache of heat and exhaustion has settled throughout his body and his head is starting to pound. Wiping his brow again he sighs and takes the shovel in both hands. His grey t-shirt is almost completely soaked and his hands are sweating in the work gloves he found in the trunk. The sun is high and it's over thirty degrees, again he mentally berates himself for deciding now would be a good time to dig up this grave. But his stubborn pride means he won't be backing down. He looks back towards the lone figure standing, arms crossed, under a tree.

"_Your turn?"_ he asks, holding the shovel out, still standing in the open grave. The only response he gets is narrowed eyes and a glare that could make even Bobby Singer run for the hills. He shrugs, turning back to the task at hand, the first slivers of guilt stirring in his heart.

If it were anyone other than Dean Winchester, she would've killed them already. She stands in the shade of the nearest tree, arms crossed, the hood of her thin black sweatshirt pulled up to ward off the sun. Even in the shade she feels like she's on fire, the heat taking its toll. It feels like they've been out here for hours and she's exhausted, every movement she makes is slow, even breathing seems hard. Her joints are stiff and sore, her mouth dry. It takes all of her strength just to glare at the man in front of her. But she won't give in, won't tell him how this is affecting her, her anger makes her stubborn, her anger in response to his.

After what seems like an eternity but was probably no more than fifteen more minutes, the muted thump of metal on wood tells Dean he's reached the casket. A few minutes later and he takes a few steps back to avoid the added heat of the fire. When he turns his head to t he side to look at her, she can't help but appreciate the beauty of the man in front of her.

When he looks back at her again he falters, the sheen of sweat across her flushed skin and the dark circles beneath her eyes showing exactly how much being out here is distressing her. As he finishes replacing the last of the dirt she sees him pause, a flicker of remorse visible on his face, and she can't help but smirk.

"_What?!"_

"_Feeling guilty?"_ her smirk grows.

"_We're done here."_ He growls, stalking towards her. She drops her arms to her sides when he passes her heading towards the Impala. She forces her feet to follow him, immediately regretting it as a wave of nausea hits. In his peripheral vision he sees her lean against the tree, taking a few deep breaths before following him to the car. When she catches up, he's already put the stuff away and got her door open, waiting for her. She slips into the passenger seat and cringes when he slams the door behind her. As she struggles with the seat belt, he gets in and starts the car. Dean sits there, both hands on the steering wheel, staring off into the distance. The events of last night run through his head, the pack of werewolves that had been hunting him while he had been hunting the vengeful spirit, the confrontation that followed. Unconsciously his fingers feel the claw marks in the tender skin above his hip bone.

"_Are you angry because __**I**__ saved you or because of __**how**__ I saved you?"_ her voice is quiet, almost hesitant. He looks at her briefly; she's sitting with her back against the door, her knees pulled up to her chest, her head resting on the back of the seat. Her face no longer holds any anger; instead her expression is a neutral sort of resignation. He turns his gaze away from her, looking out through the windshield again. He can't answer her, he doesn't have an answer. Maybe his pride had been hurt a little that she had saved him; hunting was all that he knew and all that he had was that he was a _good_ hunter. But he remembers _how_ she had saved him-how ruthlessly and efficiently she had killed off all of the werewolves threatening him. In a matter of minutes she had decimated the six member pack, a trail of broken and bloodied bodies in her wake. All to save him. He looks back at her, only slightly surprised to see a sort of suspicion on her features. He forgets sometimes how adept she is at reading people and realizes that she knows what he's thinking about.

"_Guess it's not all it's cracked up to be, is it?"_ He squeezes his eyes shut at the sound of her voice, trying to black out the pain he can hear in it. He had been stubborn, wanting to drag her out into the daylight to dig up that grave, to hurt her, for hurting him. She had scared him last night; her actions had left him questioning their truce, questioning her humanity. He couldn't see the stupidity then, but he can sure as hell see it now. She is a hunter, just like him, and he was punishing her for something he would've happily done himself, had done many times before, to her kind no less. Her eyes remain fixed on her shoes as he puts the car into gear and heads for the motel.

--

Dean breathes a sigh of relief when, back at the motel, he finds that Sam is at the library, a note regarding the research on the table near the door. He heads back out to the car, opens the passenger door and gently nudges her awake from the fitful sleep she has fallen into.

"_Aidan, come on, I'm gonna get you your own room."_ She groans in protest as he helps her out of the car but allows him to lead her to the motel office.

The lanky teen behind the counter grins when he sees the girl come through the door. Then he sees one of the men who came in earlier enter the office behind her and his grin disappears.

"_Can I help you Mr. Ulrip?"_

"_Uh, yeah…Joe. I'd like to get another room for my friend here."_ Dean says, tilting his head to the side to read the boy's nametag.

"_Sure. Your, ah, __**other**__ friend left this morning."_ The boy says, his eyes studying an oblivious Aidan. She stands behind him rubbing the sleep form her eyes while Dean processes the boy's comment. He frowns and looks back at Joe, who is now letting his eyes wander.

"_So, uh, Joe, you can just add that to my card, right?"_ he asks, drawing the kid's attention.

"_Um, yeah, it'll just be a minute."_ Joe answers, turning to the computer. Dean looks at Aidan, who's looking out the window, into the parking lot. She turns her focus to the office itself, avoiding his gaze and his guilt. She looks up at him when she feels his hand encircle hers.

"_I'm sorry."_ He says quietly and pulls her closer to stand next to him, his eyes fixed on hers.

"_Um…your room key man."_ The kid's grinning like an idiot and it takes all of Deans self restraint not to smack that grin off of his face. He grabs the key and follows Aidan out the door.

--

She follows Dean through the door, grateful for the darkness inside, and throws herself facedown onto the bed. Dean parts the curtain slightly, keeping an eye out for his brother. When he sees no sign of him, he walks over to the bed and gently removes her shoes. He crawls up beside her, head propped up on his hand and pushes her hair out of her face.  
_"Sam's gonna be back soon. Are you gonna be ok?"_ he frowns, worry evident.

"_Yeah, I just need to sleep it off. It's ok."_ Her voice is barely above a whisper but in the small bit of light coming in from outside he can see that she's watching him.

"_My room's right next door if you need anything."_ His concern for her safety overriding his concern over her secrecy.

"_Can you put the air on before you go?"_

"_Sure. Anything else?"_

"_No."_ Her eyes are heavy and her response slow. He takes a moment to stare, knowing just how beautiful she is. Her eyes are starting to close in sleep when he leans forward, brushing his lips lightly against hers, whispering his apology again. He smiles when her lips part for him and he kisses her once more.


	7. Into the Labyrinth of Another

**Into the Labyrinth of Another**

Bobby throws open the door halfway through the first knock, relief written across his face and Missouri wastes no time waiting for an invitation, pushing past the hunter and into the house.

"'_Bout time you showed up."_ The look she gives him is enough warning and he apologizes.

"_Where is she?"_ Missouri asks, voice as sweet as ever. Bobby leads her into the next room where the young vampire sits cross-legged among his piles of books, a large occult dictionary opened across her lap. She looks up, startled and immediately on guard when they enter the room. Her gaze alternates between the woman and Bobby, seeking reassurance from the man.

"_This here's a friend of mine, Missouri. She ain't gonna hurt you."_ Bobby steps to the side, allowing the woman to approach the child.

"_Hey there, sweetheart, I'm Missouri. What's your name?"_ She pulls the nearest chair over to sit next to the girl.

"_Aidan."_ She's looking at Bobby when she answers but Missouri already knows it was he who named her.

"_That's a great name,"_ She looks to Bobby when she speaks, assuring her friend, _"it means 'little fire'"._

Aidan looks at the woman, sensing there's something more to her, something hidden beneath the surface. Her presence and her nature are calming, her eyes gentle and wise. Missouri tries to get a read on the child, relaxing her senses and trying to focus on the vampire's thoughts. Usually the feelings and images would come instantly, untamed, this time however her efforts are met with a void, all she can get are muddied emotions.

"_What are you reading?"_ The girls dark eyes flick down to the dictionary still in her lap open to the "V" section. She feels a slight pressure in her head and a new found willingness to open up to the woman next to her. Her gaze returns to Missouri, a new awareness on her features, just short of suspicion; Aidan knows the question was meant to steer the direction of the conversation to come.

"_I'm not like the others."_ The statement is permission for the woman to continue.

"_No, you're not. But that's a good thing."_

"_I don't want to be like them."_ As she speaks, she pulls on the sleeves of the shirt Bobby had given her, trying to cover the fading bite marks and bruises. The action is not lost on the other occupants of the room; the hunter frowns from his post in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the conversation from beneath the trucker hat.

"_And you're not going to be, you-"_

"_You're a psychic."_ The statement catches her off guard and she looks over at Bobby, her surprise mirrored on his face.

"_Yes…I am. How did you know that?" _Missouri leans closer to the girl who is absently flicking through pages. Aidan shrugs, not able to explain and a moment of silence passes.

"_You're a good person. And you're going to continue to be a good person. There are good things in store for you."_ Missouri can see the disbelief in her eyes; can sense the sadness coming from the girl.

"_Oh, you don't believe me now but just you wait…I'll be saying 'I told you so'"._ Even though she is sceptical, Aidan smiles at the lady anyway.

--

Missouri sits quietly at the counter as Bobby finishes making their coffees. She watches the hunter, aware of numerous internal battles raging beneath his calm exterior. She wants to tell him everything that she knows, everything she has seen, but for fear of upsetting the balance she remains silent. She has seen what the future can hold, and she will be damned to mess it up even further. Her eyes meet his when he sets the mug down in front of her. His eyes plead for explanations but can see her hesitancy.

"_Well, you gonna tell me what is so important about her other than the fact that she ain't quite human or vampire?"_ Bobby's gaze is direct, unwavering. She takes a sip of her hot drink, debating on how much he needs to know. Her games are not intended to confuse or annoy, but she knows that certain things must be allowed to progress to allow any hope for a better future, not just for the human race, but for those closest to her, those she loves.

"_She will play an important role in the lives of the Winchester brothers. Not now, but in time. We need her on our side."_ She weighs her words, keeping her tone even.

"_Dean and Sam? Why?"_

"_She has and will have important links to both of them. I'm sorry I can't tell you more, I really am Bobby, but you have to trust me now."_ Her eyes implore him to believe her, to allow her to get away with only revealing what she deems necessary.

"_I do trust you, God knows why."_ The rest of time passes quietly while each contemplates current events. Bobby won't admit it, but he's grown attached to the child already, but he doesn't have to admit anything, Missouri already knows. And he knows that she knows. He wants to keep Aidan safe and he doesn't know how.

After they finish the coffee, he helps her into her coat, offering what he hopes is an encouraging smile. They step onto the porch, into the cool night air. She starts down the stairs but turns, needing to warn him, _"John Winchester is gonna hear of this soon, and he'll be on his way. Keep her safe, even if you have to let her go to do it."_ Bobby stares at her, not sure of what to say, and she turns and disappears into the darkness.

--

AN: So, this was a shorter chapter, I am hoping to have a few more and then have this finished by the time Season 4 starts. And then, depending on reviews, maybe I'll do a sequel, and try to make it linear :-). Thanks again for all of your reviews!


	8. The Imperfect Is Our Paradise

**The Imperfect Is Our Paradise**

Twenty four hours ago Dean Winchester found out that his father went to hell for him. Because of him. He wants to laugh and cry and fight all at once but settles on remaining silent. The dark night passes beyond the windows of the Impala while Sam sits quietly beside him, wanting to say something, anything, to ease his brother's suffering. He remembers the words that became his father's goodbye; he imagines the words that didn't. Glancing at his brother out of the corner of his eye he is suddenly angry, furious that John could leave him here with this burden of immeasurable guilt, but at the same time, relieved that he left Dean here. Sam feels guilty to think this way but he is thankful his brother is with him, alive.

Dean had suspected the truth, the steps his father took to save his live, but the confirmation is almost more than he can bear. He doesn't know what to do next, where to go from here. John would've wanted him to keep fighting, to keep saving people but the emptiness he feels inside makes him want to curl up and die. Except that his dad died so he wouldn't, and that thought starts the vicious cycle over again in his head.

His grip on the steering wheel is tight, that way Sam won't see how bad his hands shake. The car comes to a stop at the red light; Dean takes the opportunity to observe his surroundings. To their left is a bar, Dean thinks maybe he'll be heading back this way once they check into the motel just ahead. He's about to advance through the green light when he spots Eli, the bartender/vampire they had met during the whole Gordon Walker fiasco. He's about to give up on the idea of the bar when he sees who the vampire is talking to. Aidan stands in front of the man, arms crossed, her lips pulled tight into a frown. The car creeps forward slowly; he doesn't want to alert Sam. She shrugs in response to something he's said and enters the building, Eli close behind.

In the seconds it takes him to drive through the intersection, he's already debated with himself and decided; he pulls over and looks at Sam.

"_What?"_ Sam asks, clearly not impressed.

"_I'm going to the bar…alone,"_ Dean puts the car in park and climbs out, _"you go ahead and check in, I can see the motel from here."_

"_Dean…I know you're upset right now but-"_

"_Sammy, upset doesn't even begin to touch this. I'll be back by morning."_ Sam sighs but shuffles over into the driver's seat, knowing he's already lost this battle. Dean watches until the car disappears into the motel parking lot before heading to the bar. When he reaches the door he hesitates, the unknown number of vampires on the other side causing him to question his sanity. Growling at the situations he gets himself into, he enters the bar.

--

She had sensed something was off when she had stood out front, and now her senses are in overdrive, causing her to ignore Eli and take inventory. Something is different, not dangerously so, but enough to alert her. She catches a glimpse of the back of a black leather jacket and her heart beats wildly in her chest. The other vampire notices her lack of attention and takes a look around. The bar is crowded and he can't spot anything irregular in her line of sight.

"_Aidan?"_

"_What?"_

"_You ok?"_ He looks down at her, watching her eyes skim the bodies in the room. She can't see past the group standing beside the bar and wants to get closer, wants to see for herself that the man who entered the bar is not who she thinks he is. The scent of Dean Winchester, leather and earthy hits her nose and she can't help but smile. Eli is looking at her like she's grown another head.

"_Are you even listening?"_

"_No-I mean…no. Look Eli, I'm not interested in blind dates or anything else your friends might have in mind, no offense. You understand don't you?"_

"_Yeah…I guess I do."_ He offers his friend a small smile, wishing just once she'd go out and have some fun. A few vampires he knows have shown interest but for reasons he knows too well she pushes everyone away. Her eyes are back to searching the room, he can't imagine what has her attention.

"_Hope I'm not interrupting."_ Eli is immediately on guard and her breath catches in her throat at his husky voice in her ear. Turning to face him she is relieved at the smile on his face.

"_No. Dean, this is Eli-"_

"_We've met."_ The vampire hisses between clenched teeth. Aidan spins around to glare at him, a warning look on her face.

"_Sorry about your friend."_ When she looks back at Dean, there is no hostility on his face, his eyes are sincere, his remorse evident. She feels rather than sees Eli calm down a bit.

"_Let's go for a walk. Eli, I'll see you back at the house."_ There is no room for discussion or argument and she pushes the eldest Winchester to the door. She's thankful for the cool air outside, and the vacancy. When she turns to face him, his eyes are on the ground, a deep sorrow weighing him down.

"_Sam and I were driving past and I saw you. I wanted to see you again. I'm sorry…"_ He mentally scolds himself for sounding like he's gone off the deep end. Her dark eyes are watching him and he can't help but stare back. He releases a breath when she slips her hand into his, some of the tension drifting away. He smiles, an anxious smile at best and rubs his hand over his brow. She waits patiently for him, allowing him the silence he needs to continue. And he tells her everything. How his father went to hell for him, how he could've saved him and had ten years with his family. How he's felt ever since, the hopelessness, the emptiness. What's dead should stay dead.

"_What did I do?"_ His voice is almost a whisper and she can feel the heaviness of the question.

"_You did the right thing."_ She hopes he doesn't hate what she said; she has no idea how to help him. She frowns in confusion when he laughs.

"_First time I met you I poured my heart out and here I am again."_

"_I don't mind. It's nice to talk to a human for once."_

"_You don't get along with the other vampires?"_

"_I do, usually, but I can't…get close to them. Ever. Because of what my blood is to them."_ She's staring at the ground, her voice small. The full burden of what she confesses makes him cringe. He remembers the last time he saw her, the first time they met, the loneliness and sadness in her face that he knows echoes in his own eyes when he lets his guard down. He pulls her close, wanting to hold her, wanting to be held, although he never admits it. He rests his cheek against her head, revelling in her scent. He can't help but think back to the conversation he had with Bobby after they had gotten away from Detective Sheridan…

--

Sam had gone into the house to clean up and find some books they could use in their next hunt. Bobby was aware of Dean's reluctance to enter the house, saw him watching until his brother was out of sight. Dean turns to the older hunter, unsure of how to start this conversation but desperately in need of it. Bobby waits as Dean paces on the front porch, the morning sun just coming up through the trees. This is something big, he can tell, and he gives the younger man the time and the space that he needs, hoping Sam stays in the house long enough.

"_I need you to tell me about Aidan."_ Straight and to the point, Bobby is speechless.

"_I've met her. What's the story Bobby?"_ Dean's leaning on the porch railing, his eyes anywhere but meeting the older man's.

"_What did she tell you?"_ He approaches the subject carefully, not sure how much the young hunter knows.

"_Told me she's a vampire…mostly. And that you saved her, from other vampires…and a hunter."_

"_That's the story. I was hunting the pack, once I found them feeding on her, I couldn't very well leave her there now could I?"_

"_What hunter did you save her from?"_ The question is asked quietly, Dean keeps his gaze averted.

"_Doesn't matter."_ Just once he wishes the boy would leave well enough alone. The sudden tension in Dean's stance and the darkness clouding his eyes tells him that won't be happening.

"_Who did you save her from?"_ He's staring at him now, green eyes dark and suspicious.

"_I'd tell you boy, but I think you already know."_ Bobby keeps his face as neutral as possible, not wanting to acknowledge that John was involved. He doesn't have to. Dean looks back out over the yard, the muscles in his jaw clenching. How far will he go with this conversation? How much is he willing to tell the man he loves like a father? He doesn't want to talk anymore, doesn't _**want**_ to, but _**needs **_to.

"_I __**know**__ it was him, Bobby. Couldn't figure out what had him so pissed that he dragged us across three states to get to your place. I think Sammy slept most of the way…he was just little back then…I remember…it was raining when we got here…"_

"_Dean-"_

"_Dad made us wait in the car, made me wait…Sam was still sleeping…he was so mad, I remember he didn't talk to you for months, maybe a year…maybe more."_

"_Dean, it's done. He got over it."_ Bobby could see the despair in his eyes, the need for comfort outweighing the need for secrecy. Dean takes a few breaths, trying to sort his thoughts. Why was everything so hard?

"_I saw her run. I didn't tell her that but I did, I saw her. I met her a while ago. Bobby, how pissed do you think my dad would be knowing I didn't kill her?"_ Bobby frowns, understanding and pity marring his kind features. That was what Dean wants, what he needs, approval. Permission to ease his mind, the greyness of the job becoming more evident as each day passes. Bobby can't blame him; he can blame John, but not Dean. Not either of the boys. He sighs and steps closer to Dean, places his hands on his shoulders, hoping to get the message deeper.

"_Hunting ain't what it used to be, evil isn't always cut and dry. She ain't one of the bad guys. You know that. I know that. In time, your dad would've known it too."_ He doesn't resist when the older man pulls him in for a brief hug. Bobby lets him go, Deans eyes focus on the ground between them, their green depths wet with tears that won't fall. He'd give anything to show these boys that are like children to him just how proud he is of them, how proud their father would be, how proud their father _should_ be.

"_How is Aidan anyway?"_ Bobby asks with a smile, diffusing the remaining tension. He watches as Dean smirks, his shoulders loosening.

"_She's good, I guess, hot, I've only met her once. Good kisser."_ He immediately braces himself for the smack upside the head he gets from Bobby.

"_I swear to Christ boy, you better be careful with her, she's not like the girls you know. You'd better not hurt her."_ At the older man's words, the seriousness returns to Dean's face.

"_I know sir, and I won't hurt her."_ Bobby sees the truth in his eyes and smiles. _"Scouts honour."_ He scoffs at Dean, throwing an arm around his shoulder and leads him into the house.

--

"_I didn't think I'd see you again."_ She whispers into the leather of his coat. He pulls back enough so she can look up at him.

"_This is new to me. Not just the whole be-nice-to-vampire thing…"_ He leaves the rest unsaid, figuring its better that way. Her gaze falls to his chest as she processes his words. His hand is on her neck, his thumb under her chin, bringing her face up to meet his. Her lips are as sweet as he remembers and he grins when he feels her moan against his mouth. For the first time in his life, Dean Winchester wants to take things slow, Bobby's warning echoing in his consciousness.

"_Can I buy you a drink?"_ He asks, hands cupping her face while he looks into her midnight eyes. She smiles in response, convinced the man in front of her is the Devil. At least tonight he's _her_ devil.

"_I suppose I could allow it."_ He smiles, following her back into the bar, admiring the way the black jeans hug her curves, the red of her hair bright against the black leather of her jacket. He wants to reach out and touch her but behaves himself for the moment. A few patrons glance their way but no ones seems overly interested, except for Eli, Dean notices, who's now at the dart boards. After a brief glare, the vampire looks away and returns to his game. Deans looks back and Aidan is at the bar waiting for him.

"_What's your poison?"_ His voice is low and she can't help but smirk when she feels his hand graze across her ass to rest on her hip. She leans into him, feeling the warmth radiating from his body, _him_, he is her poison. And he knows it. Drinks in hand they make their way to one of the small tables off to the side.

"_Just curious, how many vampires are in here?"_ He asks casually as he sits opposite her. She takes a sip of her drink while momentarily scanning the room.

"_Not too many. I'll protect you."_ Her smirk matches his. He reaches across the table, intertwining his fingers with hers, pulls his chair in closer so he can get some semblance of privacy.

"_I told Bobby that I met you."_ Her look is immediately guarded, not sure how to take this information.

"_What did he say?"_ Curiosity gets the better of her, she misses the man who saved her all those years ago, who named her; helped make her the person she is today.

"_Said if I hurt you there'd be hell to pay."_ She laughs and he smiles, he can see the nostalgic look in her eyes, the fondness in her face. Neither one mentions his father.

--

He feels her go stiff in his arms when he shuts the door to the motel room, pulls back and looks at her. She can't seem to meet his eyes; he hopes he hasn't pushed her.

"_What's wrong?"_

"_Nothing is wrong…it's just…I don't know how to say this…to you."_ He waits, staring at her until she finally meets his eyes, her cheeks tinged with excitement, her eyes with shame.

"_I don't have a lot of experience with this…"_

"_No vampire ex-boyfriends?"_

"_One…bad…experience. Due to the whole blood thing…"_

"_Pretty vague explanation,"_ The look of hurt on her face makes him explain himself, _"Not that I'm complaining, I just don't understand is all…"_

"_He didn't really want sex, and he wouldn't stop…so I killed him. I had too."_ Her expression has darkened and she exists in a time and place he can't reach, the memories of that painful encounter like a whip, the bites and scratches and helplessness so fresh she can smell it. He understands her uncertainty now, the full weight of their situation thickening the air between them. He doesn't know what to say to comfort her, so he reaches out again and kisses her again, gently this time, conveying his understanding on a physical level. His contact brings her out of her trance and she holds him a little tighter, letting the remembrance fade as she focuses on the man clutching her like she means the world to him. His passion is warming her, the flush creeping up her body from the throbbing between her legs, from the places where his lips touch her neck. Her hands push the jacket from his shoulders and reach under his shirt, trying desperately to get closer. His lips are becoming more frantic on hers, lust dimming his eyes when he stops to stare into hers. The silence stretches on but she doesn't move as her unzips her jacket and slides it off. Their gazes remain fixed on each others when he reaches out, slips his fingers into the waistband of her jeans, pulls her closer and unzips those as well.

She only hesitates once more when she's naked on the bed before him, the reality of their situation setting in, the consequences of their actions measured on an unholy scale. She wants this, wants him, a fact of which he is utterly aware.

"_We can't go back from this."_ Her voice is nothing more than a whisper.

"_I know."_ His voice is small too, his face honest. Things were going to be complicated. A vampire and a human, things are already complicated. His face shows his willingness to enter into the unknown, into the chaos, for her. Her face shows the trust she has for him. It's all he needs to see, his lips are on hers again, his sex pressing against hers, waiting for her permission. She pulls him closer, kissing him, holding his face in her hands, pulling him into her.

AN: Thanks for all the reviews, I appreciate all of your support. Hopefully you're enjoying this, guess I should've warned you it was nonlinear but first fanfic and all I didn't think of it until now. So we're a little closer to the end, please let me know what you think!! Thanks for reading and being very patient!


	9. The Stranger Remains

**The Stranger Remains**

She slips quietly through the door into the darkness of the silence of the old house. She can sense the man asleep upstairs as she makes her way into the familiar kitchen. The noise is kept to a minimum as she rummages through cupboards and the fridge for ingredients. The dinner plates are still where she remembers them to be and this makes her smile.

The soft sound of the floorboard near the stove creaking stirs Bobby from the fitful slumber he's fallen into. The sickening images of his wife as he killed her fade quickly, replaced by a sense of alarm at the intruder in his house. The salt and symbols have not deterred whoever is in the house below him and he reaches down beside the bed for the shotgun.

"_It's just me."_ She calls out lightly, hearing the thundering of the man's heart when he steps off the last stair. Bobby lets out a sigh of relief and enters the kitchen, his eyes scolding the girl for scaring him again. He remembers the first time she had snuck into his house, over a decade after he lost her that rainy night. He had rounded the corner and there she was, sitting in the same chair she had occupied all those years ago, her face calm. They had talked until the sun rose that day, talked about her, how her life had been, some things too horrible to convey through words. Eventually their conversation found its way to her and Dean.

Aidan's lips curl into a small smile and she pushes the plate towards Bobby, taking her usual seat. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits opposite her, smiling at the sight of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. They eat in silence for a few moments, each enjoying the others company. He has never told her this, but he fears for her safety everyday, there are hunters out there that scare even him. He thanks whoever or whatever might be listening every time she returns safely, every time Dean reports her as 'still kicking'. He knows she worries about him too, knows she keeps an ear to the ground, reading to come running at the first sign of trouble he may not be able to handle. That makes him proud.

She takes his dish once he's finished and piles it with hers in the sink. He watches as she stands at the sink, not turning back to face him, staring off into space, a move he recognizes as gathering courage.

"_How's Dean?"_ Her voice is steady enough but strangely empty. She turns to face him when he doesn't answer her, her eyes dark and angry. Bobby looks at the table, trying to find the words, not wanting her to hear them.

"_I hear the strangest things…humans selling their souls…Is it true?"_ Her eyes glisten with tears she tries to control.

"_I don't think you should hear it from me."_

"_I __**have**__ to hear it from you. If it's true, then I have no one else."_ Her words are enough to break his resolve and the anger wells up again, anger at everything.

"_He sold his soul to bring Sam back."_ Her face pales even further and she looks at the ground, confirmation of her fear more than she can bear.

"_He has one year."_ The tears fall unimpeded at this news and she turns away, bracing herself on the counter once more. She hears the older hunter rise and close the distance, lets herself sink into his arms and cry.

"_What do we do now?"_ She's calmed down enough to stop crying, at least for the moment.

"_We make the most outta the time we have, not that we stop lookin for a way out, but in case we don't find one, he needs us right now, he needs you."_ Bobby sits on the porch with Aidan, once again watching the sky lighten.

"_I'll see what I can find out; see if anyone's heard anything on my end."_

"_Just do it quietly, we don't need more trouble"_

"_I love him…"_ She doesn't know how to express the desperation that has consumed her.

"_I know, and he loves you. Don't ever forget that."_ Her dark eyes meet his, sensing a deeper story to his words and he looks away before continuing, _"It'll be the only thing that keeps you going."_

**Epilogue**

She stands quietly in the doorway, watching the young man cry over the body of his brother. Nothing is real, nothing feels real; a nightmare. Except there is no way to wake. She doesn't know how long she stands there, eventually turning and finding Bobby in the next room. Her movements are slow and her heart is numb. Shock. That's all she feels, empty, alone. Bobby glances at her now and then; no one knows what to do next. She stops pacing and looks at her hands; her lover's blood adorns them, the scent too familiar, too close.

When she looks back up, Sam is watching her, a stranger in every sense. He passes her and sits at the table, giving her the chance to say goodbye. She stops at the doorway at the sight of the lifeless body in the room beyond and suddenly the numbness is ripped away, leaving nothing but pain and the anger of helplessness. She crosses the room quickly, taking his cold hand in hers. She's already memorized his features, his voice, she's terrified to forget. Sam and Bobby watch from the doorway as her tears fall to mingle with the dried blood on his cheeks. Her lips press against his and she commits the taste of his blood to memory, everything is locked away inside, she will never let it go. She whispers in his unhearing ear and kisses him again.

"_Where will you go now?"_ It's the first time she spoken to him besides the time a few weeks ago in the motel parking lot. Strangers.

"_I hunt whatever did this…I won't stop."_ His eyes bore into hers, a promise.

"_Want some company?"_

A/N: So, maybe a little rushed at the end but I was running out of steam, please let me know what you think and if you'd like to see a sequel during this season. Again, thanks for your patience, you guys rock!


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